by Bess McBride
Annie grimaced and shrugged. “I just can’t say, Belinda. But I’m not leaving because of anything wrong here. I want you to know that. I...I...” She paused. “I need to get back home, but I did want to run down to Baltimore while I was so near.”
Belinda studied Annie’s face, as if she didn’t truly believe her. Annie turned to Monroe.
“Thank you so much for your offer, Monroe, but I’ve already made arrangements with Dr. Mallory.” Annie bit her lip, trying to think fast. “I can only imagine that as a bachelor doctor without children, he has a lot of ready cash, and he offered me a loan. I know you wouldn’t let me pay you back, and I didn’t want to take a grant from anyone. I know that’s probably awkward of me to say, but I hope you understand. I am so grateful for all that you and Belinda have done for me—the opportunity to spend time with you, to meet your children...” Annie’s voice caught, and she paused. “Thank you so much for the loan of your clothing, Belinda, which I will leave here in the morning before I go. I am so thankful to have finally met you, so thankful that you’re well.”
A tear rolled down Belinda’s cheek, as it did Annie’s. Monroe cleared his throat.
“And we are equally grateful that you came to visit us, Cousin Annie,” he said.
“Despite my earlier skepticism, Annie, to the point of rudeness, I am grateful for your efforts to warn us—to warn me—about the typhoid,” Belinda said in a throaty voice. “It is possible that you have saved our lives and that of our children. I will never forget you, and I hope that you write to us and return to visit us again. You must take the clothing with you. You cannot travel about in winter in the dress that you were wearing.”
Annie choked back a sob. She couldn’t think of any response that wouldn’t lead to a protracted round of blubbering.
“May I ask you a favor?” Belinda continued, looking as if she too was struggling for emotional control.
Annie nodded.
“Will you go visit my mother when you are in Baltimore? I know she would love to see you and will no doubt ask you to stay in her home as well. I will send along a note of introduction with you. Please say that you will.”
Chapter Eleven
Annie spent a sleepless night on the sofa. She worried about how to get back home; she worried about Danny; she worried about Belinda, Monroe and the children. She worried for all the people who would die of bacterial infections before the discovery of penicillin.
When the sky outside the parlor window at long last transitioned from dark indigo blue to a soft Wedgewood, she rolled off the couch, grunting and groaning as she moved.
She straightened with effort and gingerly pulled her nightgown over her head, pausing at multiple times as her muscles screamed in protest. The stove fire had burned out in the night, and the parlor was cold. Goose bumps rose over her body, and she reached for the clothing she had draped over the end of the couch.
She stilled when she saw the clothing now folded neatly on the coffee table, along with her own black dress and underwear, what looked like a fresh chemise and drawers, and a small taupe canvas carrying bag. Beside the bag was the envelope holding the letter Belinda had written out quickly the previous night for Annie to take to her mother in Baltimore.
Annie’s heart swelled as she saw that Belinda had come down in the night after Annie had fallen asleep. She was truly going to miss the family, but she was so grateful to have met them in person. Few...no, no one, to Annie’s knowledge, had ever had that opportunity before.
On the off chance that she couldn’t return or that she accidentally traveled to yet another time, Annie chose the safest course—the conservative clothing. She put her dress and underwear into the bag and began the arduous process of dressing in the early twentieth century—made all the worse by her bruised and battered body.
Dressing took far longer than she’d planned, and she peered at the clock on the wall. The room was still fairly dark, and she thought she had about five minutes before Dr. Mallory, if he was coming, was to arrive.
Annie picked up Belinda’s letter and put it in the canvas bag. On the point of picking up the bag, she hesitated. She had not read Belinda’s letter, since it had been sealed in an envelope. If Belinda had wanted to read it aloud to her, she would have. It seemed destined for her mother, and Annie had chosen to preserve that illusion. If she made it back to her time with the letter intact, she would treasure it and would feel no compunction about reading it then. Annie unbuttoned the top of her blouse, stuffed the envelope inside her chemise and redid her buttons.
She smoothed her hair, picked up the bag and limped toward the door. She eyed the coats and hats on the wall but had already decided she would not take the coat and hat that Belinda had offered her. Whether the family had means or not, Belinda had two growing daughters who would need the clothing one day. At any rate, Annie didn’t think she would need the coat for long as she fervently hoped she would return to her own time—summer of 2020 in Washington State.
She eased open the front door so to avoid waking the household. Stepping outside, she stopped short on the top step as a snowflake hit her nose. Snow coated the stairs, the sidewalk and the otherwise silent road. She closed the door, tightened her grasp on the bag and maneuvered her way painfully down the three front steps to street level.
A dark silhouette approached on the sidewalk, all the more noticeable as the only moving thing in a soft blanket of white. She recognized the tall, slender form of Dr. Mallory, his hatted head down against the snow. She met him at the railing of the basement stairwell.
“You’re really here!” she whispered with wonder and not a little bit of gratitude. “I’m surprised that you came.”
White teeth flashed under his mustache. “But of course I’m here. I said I would be.”
“I doubt if anything dramatic is going to happen,” she said. “Hopefully, I’ll just wish and wish, and off I go.”
“Yes, you said that.”
“They’re still sleeping inside. We should keep our voices low.”
“You didn’t say goodbye?” he asked in surprise.
“I did last night...at least, to the adults. I didn’t want to say goodbye to the children.”
She nodded toward the stairs leading to the basement well.
“Let me take that for you,” Dr. Mallory said, reaching for her bag. “Hold on to the railing, and let me walk ahead of you. We cannot have you taking another spill.”
Annie handed him her bag with gratitude. With her skirts clutched in her left hand and her right hand grasping the railing, she dropped painfully from one steep step to the next. Dr. Mallory’s tall form ahead of her assured that if she fell, she wouldn’t go far.
“Do you feel that your errand was successful?” he asked as they reached the lower level. He handed her the bag. Snow continued to fall, but the basement well provided some protection from the elements. “If errand is the correct term.”
“Errand seems a little underwhelming for whatever mission I was on, but without your help, I couldn’t have succeeded.” She looked up at him. “I did succeed, right? They’re not going to die of typhoid fever?”
“Not from the ice cream from Swenson’s Dairy Farm this year.”
“Well, that’s not reassuring, Doc!”
“I mean it to be, but I cannot guarantee you anyone’s eternal good health. I wish I could, but I can’t.”
“I know,” Annie said. Now that it was time to go, she was reluctant to try. If she failed, she would definitively know that she couldn’t return, but if she didn’t try, the hope would always be there.
She looked around the stairwell, stalling.
“What will happen now?” Dr. Mallory asked.
“I don’t know. This has never happened to me before, or anyone that I know of. I’m not saying that I’m the only person who has ever traveled through time, but I’m the only one that I know about.”
“You are the only one that I know about.”
“I know,” Annie said
with a nervous chuckle. “We would have heard before if people were traveling through time.”
Dr. Mallory flashed his handsome grin, warming Annie’s heart. She grabbed his hand.
“Thank you for everything you’ve done for me, Doc, for your support and your belief in me.”
“You are most welcome,” he said, covering his hand with her own.
“I have to go,” she said, biting her lip, again scanning the stairwell, as if for reassurance.
“Yes, I know. Do you think you will ever return?”
“I don’t even know if I can leave, so the chances of me returning are slim. I don’t think it’s wise to continue to interfere in the past, you know, just in case I obliterate the possibility of my mother’s existence, of my own existence. As you noted.”
“I understand.” His hand was warm. “How can I help you now?”
“Well, at the risk of dragging you forward in time with me, I think we’d better disconnect from each other.” Annie withdrew her hand with reluctance. The doctor was such a reassuring man, and in another time, before she’d reconnected with Danny, she might have fallen for him.
“Will you say it aloud?” he asked.
Annie nodded. “I’m going to feel awfully foolish if this doesn’t work. Devastated and foolish.”
He nodded with a sympathetic expression.
Images of Danny beside himself with worry and panic, already never far from her mind, intensified.
“I’m ready,” Annie said. She closed her eyes, wishing she could hold on to the doctor’s hand for emotional support.
She opened her eyes again. “I’m afraid,” she whispered.
“Of what? Was the journey painful?”
“No, I’m just afraid. Maybe I’m afraid I’ll end up in the wrong time. I’m definitely afraid this won’t work.”
Dr. Mallory took her free hand once again.
“You are a courageous woman. Through the sheer force of your will, you traveled over a hundred years to the past to save your family’s lives. Call upon that will to return.” He released her hand and stood back.
Annie closed her eyes again, shifted the bag in her hand and spoke aloud. “I wish I could go back home. I wish I could go back home.”
She waited, waited for any sign that she was traveling. She remembered she had broken out in a sweat, but that didn’t happen. She did feel dizzy at the moment but thought that was from holding her breath. She released pent-up air and opened her eyes.
Dr. Mallory watched her. Above his shoulder, she saw snow falling. The air was cold. She was in the basement stairwell.
“I’m still here,” she said quietly. “I’m still here.”
“Yes,” he said.
“It didn’t work. Why didn’t it work?” Her voice rose to meet her panic. “I need to go home, Doc. I need to go home!” She dropped her bag and waved her hands wildly, as if she could conjure up the time travel by magic.
Dr. Mallory took her flailing hands in his. “Do you remember the exact words you used last time, Annie? Was there a particular mantra or prayer that you said?”
She pulled from his grasp in frustration, with the sensation of being trapped. “I don’t know! I don’t know! How can I remember the exact words I said?”
“Calm down and think, Annie. Close your eyes and recall the moments before you traveled.”
Annie closed her eyes and thought about that evening. She’d had dinner with Danny, but he had dropped her off with an emergency at the clinic. She’d sat down at her computer and studied Belinda’s and Teddie’s death certificates again. She remembered the grief she’d felt.
“My dear ones. I wish I could talk to you. For all my relations, I wish with all my heart that I could warn you.” Annie opened her eyes. “I think that was the gist of the words.”
Dr. Mallory tilted his head and smiled at her. “Now, reverse them.”
“I’ve tried!”
“Could you try ‘I wish I could go home. For all my relations, I wish with all my heart that I could go home’? Perhaps it is one of those specific words or a combination thereof.”
Annie’s heart thudded in her chest. “Okay, okay. I’ll try.” She took a deep breath, closed her eyes again and spoke. “I wish I could go home. For all my relations, I wish with all my heart that I could go home.”
Sweat broke out on her forehead and upper lip. Through a dizzying haze, she saw Dr. Mallory’s face fade in and out.
“Annie, your bag!”
He reached for her as she fell, but she cried out.
“Don’t touch me!” Her legs gave way and darkness descended.
****
Annie opened her eyes. She saw first a white ceiling that looked familiar. Her left cheek rested against soft beige carpet. Warning stickers marked the bottom of her rolling office chair and desk.
She pushed herself to a sitting position, expelling a deep, cleansing sigh of relief. She was home. She had made it. She was home.
Rotating onto her knees, she grasped the edge of her desk and tried to pull herself to a standing position. She couldn’t free her legs though, caught in the thick material of her skirts. Pain shot through her body at every joint, ligament and muscle.
She had fallen down the stairs. That had been real. Annie fell back to a sitting position and stared at the yards of serge wrapped around her legs, the long sleeves of her white muslin blouse bright against the black skirts. Great puffy sleeves at the shoulders flanked her peripheral vision.
She had traveled through time. She had not been dreaming. The clothing was proof.
What day was it? What time? How long had she been gone? Where was her phone? She lifted her arm and blindly ran her hand along the edge of her desk but couldn’t find it. A check of the sky outside her window showed it was dark, so it was late at night or early in the morning, given extended daylight during the summer hours.
She had to call Danny. He would be so worried. Annie rolled onto her knees again with a moan. She paused on all fours before reaching for the desk to pull herself up. A sound caught her attention, and she froze, holding her breath. She recognized the noise—running water in the kitchen. She lived alone. Had she left water running?
The water shut off. Someone was in the house! Robbers didn’t use water, did they?
“Danny?” she called out. “Danny?”
“Annie?” she heard in return. “Annie! Where are you?”
“I’m here! I’m here in the office!”
Footsteps pounded on tile as Danny ran toward her. Annie pulled at the edge of her skirts, trying to stand, but failed. Danny burst into the open doorway of her office and stopped short. She looked up at him from her awkward position.
“What in the world?” He hurried to her side and bent over her, reaching out a hand to help her up. “Where have you been? I panicked when I got here and found your door unlocked but you weren’t here. You didn’t take your phone. How did you get in here? Not through the front door. What are you wearing?”
During his barrage of questions, Annie rose painfully to a standing position with his help. Once on her feet, she launched herself against him, wrapping her arms around him as tightly as she could. Instead of answering his questions, she burst into tears.
“Annie, Annie, what’s wrong? What happened? There, there, honey,” he murmured, kissing the top of her head. He folded her into his arms, and she winced, though welcomed, his embrace.
“What’s wrong, Annie?” he asked again. “Are you in pain?”
Annie nodded her head against his chest but couldn’t speak until the sobs that racked her body eased. Danny, no stranger to her grief as a younger woman, stopped asking her questions and simply held her.
She had thought that, if and when she returned and saw Danny again, she would burst out in a torrent of words as she told him about everything that had happened. But as her tears eased, she found herself smelling the familiarity of his scent. She noted that he wore his dark-blue scrubs.
“Are you comin
g or going to work?” she asked against his chest. “What time is it? What day is it?”
Danny set her from him, though did not let go. For some odd reason, Annie couldn’t meet his eyes.
“What day is it?” he repeated. “It’s just about midnight, the same night. I came from work, stopping by, hoping you were still up.”
At that, Annie did look up. “The same day?” she whispered.
Danny watched her curiously, his eyelids flicking as he surveyed her clothing. “Where did you go? You scared me. Did you go to a costume party? Without your purse or phone? Without your car? I don’t understand.” He delivered his questions in a quiet though confused voice.
“No, no, that’s not what happened,” she said, shaking her head.
“Is that a bruise on your forehead?” He leaned in to look more closely. “Annie! What happened in the last two hours?”
“I can’t believe it’s only been two hours. I have a lot to tell you. We’re gonna need some coffee for this.”
“I’m way ahead of you. It’s brewing as we speak.”
“I need to use the restroom,” Annie said. “I’ll meet you back here in a few minutes, okay?”
She tried to move, but Danny, his hands on her shoulders, didn’t release her.
“You’re not going to run out into the night again, right?”
Annie smiled crookedly. “I didn’t exactly run. I’ll tell you in a minute.”
Danny nodded and let her go. Annie limped toward the door, and Danny followed.
“You’re hurt, Annie. Let me help you.”
Annie, bracing one hand on a wall in the hallway just outside the bathroom, paused and shook her head.
“Coffee,” she urged. “I need coffee, and I need to use the restroom alone. It’s about six thirty a.m., November 17, 1913, my time. I have jet lag. Coffee,” she repeated. She didn’t wait for Danny’s reaction but went into the bathroom and shut the door behind her.
Ten minutes later having wrangled her skirts up and her drawers down, with the additional limitations of her painful hand, hips and knee, she emerged from the bathroom. She had washed her hands and face and loosened the high collar of her blouse, though she did not have the energy just then to remove Belinda’s clothing.
